


The General

by Vinnocent



Series: Teen Titans: Morph! [16]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, DCU, Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Book 8: The Alien, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Implied/Referenced Anthropophogy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinnocent/pseuds/Vinnocent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After realizing how much the Teen Titans have begun to trust him, Phyzzon 355 opens up about his past crimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The General

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the over-tagging. Legacy titles are coming up in this series, which makes it impractical to title only by hero names.

Eventually, Robin led Batman back down to the sixteenth floor to show him to a guest room. When they passed by the main room, Robin paused when he saw Starfire sitting on the couch. They looked up at him expectantly. “Why aren’t you in bed?” Robin asked.

“I was hoping to speak to you when you were finished,” they confessed.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “About what?” he asked.

They crossed their arms stubbornly, glaring at him. “We do not wish you to do as you have just done ever again, please,” they said.

Robin couldn't help a small smirk of amusement. “I don’t really plan on it, guys,” he said. But when they continued glaring, he stopped smirking. He turned back to Batman. “Uh, maybe you should go on,” he said.

Batman nodded brusquely, glanced over Starfire & Phyzzon once more, then continued on his way. “Does he do that to everyone?” Phyzzon asked as Robin took a seat next to them.

“Never turns it off,” Robin said. He frowned. “I upset you.” It wasn't a question.

“You upset everyone,” said Phyzzon.

“Yeah, but only the two of you want to talk about it now,” said Robin. “So, tell me.”

They ducked their head briefly, considering, then Starfire looked at him pleadingly. “Robin, I do not want to be in a world where I have to fight you.”

“Whoa,” Robin gasped, immediately reaching out for her hand. “Starfire, that… No matter what happens to me, you’ll always be able to--"

“We are well aware of what we are _able_ to do,” Phyzzon said sharply. “We do not _wish_ to do it. We are not here to be survivors. We are not only our strength. We had hoped for a home with you. A place of safety, refuge, love. Betrayal and loss are easy to find.”

Robin was skeptical at that. “I thought we were ‘piddly’ and ‘unsatisfactory,’” he grunted.

They blushed. “Much of that was only out-lashing,” said Starfire. “But, yes, there was truth, but…” When she looked at him again, there were tears in her eyes. “But a puddle in the desert can save you life. It already has.”

Robin remembered Blackfire, then. The casual mentions Gordanian attacks. The constant grief over confrontations with Yeerks. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I think I understand what you’re saying. But Phyzzon… Starfire… That’s what we do. What happened with Slade, that’s not nearly as bad as it gets.”

“We do not want you to stop heroing, Robin,” said Starfire. “We love your heroics. Admire it. We just want to know that you will come home. That you will not betray us again.”

It wasn’t really something he could promise. After what just recently happened to Batgirl, they knew that. Robin didn’t think they wanted a guarantee against reality, they wanted a guarantee of intent, of effort. That he could give.

He smiled slightly, reaching out to touch Starfire’s cheek. “I will always come home,” he said. The look they gave him was... encouraging, and, on impulse, he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Starfire almost replied, but Phyzzon cut her off with a sudden "I do not think that would be a good idea" as they got up and left. Leaving Robin to wonder how, exactly, he’d so completely misjudged the situation.

－ －

When Robin came down the next morning, Beast Boy was eating and trying to distract Raven as she telepathically raised tinted glass panels into place. Cyborg was working at fixing the computer consoles that lined the wall. Jake was sitting on the couch, frowning at something on a borrowed laptop. And Batman and Phyzzon were hitting each other.

“Uh…” said Robin. “What are they doing?”

Cyborg looked over his shoulder briefly. “Oh, Batman noticed Sta-- Phyzzon dropping into stances when uncomfortable, but he didn’t recognize the style. So he asked Phyzzon to show him.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “Of course, he did.” That explained why they were sparring so slowly. He turned to Phyzzon, who was crouched low and to the side, with Starfire’s left arm dropped stiffly straight down as though Phyzzon intended to swing it as a club. “Why are you lopsided?” Robin asked.

“Because Gedd are lopsided,” said Phyzzon. “I have created Starfire movements as well, but he asked about the Gedd ones. I am replicating it as closely as possible.”

Cyborg stood up, his attention fully diverted. “What do you mean you created the movements?”

Instead of dodging a fairly obvious punch from Batman, Phyzzon swung that arm up exactly like a club, hitting Batman hard in the arm. Batman, of course, merely grabbed the arm, but Phyzzon was then in perfect position to kick him in the knee. They’d all missed the move, concentrating on the obvious arm movement. “Interesting,” said Batman.

“I mean that I created them,” said Phyzzon. “I manufactured the martial arts of each of my hosts. Their native cultures, if they had them, never came with their own, with the exception of Tamaraneans, but Starfire has some exceptionality that needed taking into account. Of course, the Andalites had only shown their own techniques, knowing there was no danger of the Gedd replicating them. But after the… we began to see the reasons behind the movements. With the reasons, we can find our own movements.”

Robin frowned. If he didn’t say something, Batman eventually would, and he wouldn’t be nice about it. “You’re doing it again, Phyz,” he said.

Phyzzon pivoted Starfire’s hips in a strange see-saw motion then head-butted Batman. Or he would have, had Batman not dodged quickly. “Has that ever worked?” asked Batman.

“The mighty does not expect a head-butt,” said Phyzzon. “It is direct. It is angry. This was used against people used to worship.” He glanced toward Robin. “What am I doing it again, Robin?”

“Almost saying things and then not,” said Robin.

Phyzzon dropped out of stance, and Batman followed suit, watching him carefully. Without saying anything, Phyzzon headed toward the kitchen. Beast Boy looked between Phyzzon and Robin in confusion. “Uh… Are we about to have a fight?” asked Beast Boy.

“No one is fighting,” said Phyzzon, dropping into a seat at the table and picking up something grotesque from what Starfire had _claimed_ was a fruit bowl.

“Look,” said Robin. “I understand that your past is dark and sordid and mysterious, but there are some things that kind of keep coming up. We’re going to have to talk at some point.”

“I am talking,” said Phyzzon stiffly. “I just did not wish to talk while being hit by Batman.”

“Oh,” said Robin.

“Birds!” Raven warned, pulling a glass pane out of the way just before four seagulls and a hawk came through.

<Whoa! Hey!> said Rachel, darting around the sitting area before settling on the couch. <My bad! Didn’t see that!>

Marco settled on Jake’s head, asking, <Hey guys. Can Jakey come out and pla-- Whoa, that’s Batman.>

“We’ve noticed,” Raven drawled, replacing the last glass panel and screwing it in place.

“Get off my head,” Jake grumbled. But Marco just flapped and squawked, playing innocent.

“These are the kids that keep breaking into your Tower?” asked Batman.

<You told?!> Tobias yelled.

Robin threw up his hands in defense. “He already knew about the animal attacks, and I had to explain your part against the Yeerks. I didn’t use names!”

“To be fair,” said Beast Boy, “you’re being really obvious right now.”

“You really are,” Jake agreed.

<Hey, just ‘cuz you’re living with them doesn’t mean you have to agree with them,> said Marco. Jake responded by swatting him off of his head.

<Starfire, what is that?> asked Cassie, sitting on the top of the couch between Rachel and Jake.

“This?” asked Phyzzon, holding out the lump of purple fruit leaking green pus. “It’s the fruiting body of a Dalsongan fungus. It grows on Dalsongans.”

<Ew,> said Rachel. <What do you do with it?>

In the blink of an eye, Starfire’s tongue shot out, wrapped around the alien mushroom, and pulled it into her mouth, where she swallowed it whole. The birds all jumped and flapped in surprise. Batman raised an eyebrow. The Titans just giggled and snickered (with the exception of Raven, who sighed); they were too used to it.

<Ugh! And I thought you were cute!> Rachel cried in disgust.

Starfire pouted. “What do you mean? I am adorable.” She looked to her friends. “Am I not?”

“Definitely,” Cyborg agreed. “Do you want us to shoo them out of here?”

She tilted her head curiously. “Why? They are here to see Jake,” she said. "And the nanoprobes still require removal."

“You were about to talk,” said Raven. “I assume you don’t want Batman and the Animorphs butting in on private conversations.” She ignored the look Batman gave her.

Starfire and Phyzzon seemed to think that over. Finally, they nodded, and stood. Robin noted, and was sure that Batman also noted, that Phyzzon was standing with feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped behind Starfire’s back. Standing like someone bracing to take a hit on purpose. Phyzzon nodded again. “Everyone here is fighting Yeerks,” he decided. “You should all share the information I have to give.”

“Oh,” said Beast Boy. “I thought we were going to hear more about you.”

“You are,” Phyzzon answered. “My story is the Yeerks’ story.” He looked over the group. The demorphing Animorphs. The confused Titans. Batman. And finally Robin. “I am the instigator of the revelation. I was with the rebellion. I am a major contributor the reason why there _is_ a Yeerk Empire. My title, last time I served, was Subvisser Twelve. They called me The General. And, unless you have a Council Member stashed somewhere, you will not hear a better account of the current Yeerk story.”

Cassie was staring with an open mouth.

“Whoa,” said Raven.

Jake turned to Aximili. “What’s an ‘instigator of revelation’?” he asked.

Ax was also staring at Phyzzon and Starfire. <I… I do not know,> he admitted.

Robin was expecting a smirk from Phyzzon, who usually enjoyed having the upper hand on any Andalite, but instead, he just sighed. “When the Andalites came to our planet, we thought you were gods. You were beyond our imagining. We called your spaceships ‘bubble without water.’ That’s how far ahead you were. I suppose that was not your fault, but you did nothing to dissuade us of the illusion. Took advantage of it. When the revelation came, the moment in which we realized that you were not gods, we were… angry.”

<You killed many Andalites, stole ships and pools, and ran into space where you started stealing host bodies,> said Aximili.

Phyzzon rolled Starfire’s eyes. “Funny how we had to ‘steal’ our own people.”

<Funny how you ignore the rest of the accusation,> Aximili snapped back.

Phyzzon just shrugged. “I don’t regret what I did to _you_ , and you’re welcome to feel however you want about that.” He shifted slightly. “I do, however, regret the results. I was barely more than a grub. I was stupid. This empire was not the answer I was looking for.”

“That’s what you meant,” Robin realized. “When you said that you didn’t want this. You had a part in creating the--"

“The abductions. The murders. The destruction. Laying planets to waste,” Phyzzon said. “I am responsible. That is not something I will excuse.”

“So now you attack from the other side?” said Cassie. “To force change?”

“Only since Starfire,” Phyzzon admitted. “She is a better person than I. _I_ ran away.”

“Perhaps we should start at the beginning,” Batman suggested.

“And take a seat to do it?” said Beast Boy. “I don’t really want to stand for however long your life is.”

“Nine point four cycles,” said Phyzzon. He stepped stiffly back toward the living room. He still looked like he was waiting to get punched.

“Uh,” said Jake, and Ax explained, <That would be approximately forty-seven of your years.>

“They’re everybody’s years,” Marco snapped.

“What? No, they’re not,” said Cyborg. “Temporal measurement is so incredibly un-universal.”

“Dude, it’s a joke,” Marco said, holding his hands up and laughing.

“It’s being a jerk to aliens,” said Cyborg. "Not to mention Earthlings with alternate calendars."

“Um, Phyzzon,” Robin said, following him down into the living room. “Forty-seven years… I mean… Just wondering what the lifespan is there?”

Phyzzon shrugged. “We don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Rachel snorted. “How do you not know your own lifespan?”

“No Yeerk has ever died of old age,” said Phyzzon. “Predation. War. Famine. Natural disaster. We can only breed at the end cycle. The oldest Council Member is thirty-seven cycles."

<Approximately one hundred eighty-seven of your years,> Aximili informed the group.

"We also regenerate every cycle," Phyzzon explained. "Aging does not effect us as it effects you."

“Ax, why do you keep saying ‘approximately’?” asked Jake.

<Yeerk cycles are a measure of how often an individual... _sheds_ , which is determined by biology, lifestyle, and environmental factors. They are neither universal for all Yeerks nor standardized in reference, though Yeerks in the same pool tend to cycle together,> said Aximili. <The average cycle would be just over five of your years, but it can be as short as one and a half of your months.>

“Andalite propaganda,” Phyzzon huffed. He perched on the TV stand by the windows and crossed his arms as the others found space on the long couch, Aximili moving to stand near Jake.“Cycles are rarely that extreme.”

<The Yeerk Rebellion took place in the year you would number ‘nineteen sixty-six,’> Aximili continued to the humans. <If its cycles were five years long, it would have been born at _approximately_ the same time. >

“That is because you are using multiplication,” Phyzzon laughed. “Even when speaking of Yeerk cycles, you think of Andalites. You fail to consider grub and nymph stages, which are not part of the cycle count. Or the zero-cycle. When I refer to someone being ‘almost a grub,’ I mean that they seem to be in their zero-cycle. So now you know I was in my zero-cycle in 1966.”

“I don’t know if this is fascinating or disgusting,” said Rachel, watching the two of them carefully.

<'Both' might be accurate,> said Tobias.

“How do you count time before your birth?” asked Batman.

Phyzzon just blinked at him. “Why would I count before my birth?”

“I think he’s talking about history,” said Jake, finally closing the laptop. “I was born in the 90s. If I’m telling someone when the first world war was, which was before my birth, I reference the _year_. He wants to know how you would say it since apparently you can just measure a year like a normal person.”

Phyzzon shrugged. “If I knew someone in the first world war, I would reference their cycles.”

Robin scowled, confused. “But if you didn’t know someone?”

He rolled his eyes. “Then why would I talk about it?”

Cassie gasped. “You mean Yeerks don’t have a concept of history?”

He blinked at her. “Uh… Starfire understands what you are saying, but I do not.” Starfire interjected to say, “Yeerks have had no recorded history prior to first contact. The years of Andalite occupation are measured by Andalite standards, and that is still the way on the Yeerk homeworld, as far as we know. The Yeerk Empire uses generation dates.”

“So what happened in 1966?” asked Beast Boy.

Phyzzon shrugged. “Like I said, we thought gods had arrived…”


	2. The Yeerk Chronicles, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, the "Yeerk Chronicles" chapters aren't really designed to take on my headcanons and give a clear history of what happened to Yeerks as it is to reflect Phyzzon's version of events. Which is to say that it's not supposed to fit perfectly, and it's supposed to be a bit contradictory. Some of the things in here are just blatantly tossed in to make the aliens alien-er.

`Generation 684, mid-cycle`

<Friends, I have just returned from Kanderash Pool, and I must tell you that something incredible has happened.>

Those were the first words I ever heard about Andalites. Of course, no one was calling them Andalites then.

Sirner was excited. They had just gotten their turn at a Gedd and had gone to see a potential fusion-mate at Kanderash Pool. It was there that they had seen the new beings. At first, they and their companions had hid, mistaking the new beings for predators. But then they saw the other Gedd-Yeerks interacting with them. So, Sirner and their companions approached.

One of the incredible creatures turned an eye toward them. Then it turned its face to them, which also had eyes. <Hello, there,> it said.

They had showed the Gedd-Yeerks phenomena, manipulated as tools. They had also touched the Gedd-Yeerks quite a lot, showing interest and fascination.

<What are they?> someone asked.

<Moons, I think,> said Sirner. <What else could have power like this?>

<Moons do not walk,> I said. <Moons do not have eyes and fingers.>

<The Moons do as they will,> said Sirner, and I had to admit that this was true.

<We should see them,> said someone else.

<Yes,> said another. <We must all go to see the Moons!>

The next time that Gedds were brought to the pool, Sirner and many others went to Kenderash Pool. The next time after that? We did not need to go to Kenderash pool. The Moons were already with us.

They were nothing like I would have imagined Moons to be like. They were blue. Their faces were poorly arranged.

> <Our faces are _fine_. You do not have a face. >

I am merely narrating my thoughts at the time, Aximili. And I had a Gedd face.

> <Truly, one of the most beautiful faces in the galaxy and not at all lopsided.>
> 
> “Guys, please?”

They were nothing like I would have imagined Moons to be like. They were blue, and their faces were horrific. They had four, spindly legs, and a grass-trimmer attached to their rears--

> “PHYZZON!”

Anyway, it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but I didn’t know what I was expecting, either. No one had thought the Moons could walk before, but we had no other explanation, and they were constantly surrounded by glow, manipulating and distributing it. This was the light typically associated with electronic devices, but we had never seen such before. We associated glow with Kandrona, Madra, Telefa, Fenda, Car-- The heavenly bodies. Suns and moons.

> “You worshipped suns and moons?”

Why would we worship suns? Kandrona was predictable. It was in the same places at the same times every day. But moons were less predictable. At the time, each of us saw the sky fairly rarely. To us, the movements of the moons seemed wild and unpredictable. It was obvious that they had they had their own will and that they should be respected lest they leave us.

They had massive, metallic bubbles they lived in, which came and went from the sky. We were only allowed inside if guided by one of the Moons. They brought Gedd-Yeerks inside. A few days later, they’d bring Gedd out. Rumor spread that Moons were taking and blessing Yeerks and slowly, more and more turned up.

Many days after the Moons came to my pool, there was an argument between two of them.

<PARASITES!> one was screaming at another, pulling it out of the metal bubble and into the open air.

<Sir, I-->

<As though watching you study childish and incompetent bipeds wasn’t enough of a waste of our time,> the angry Moon was saying, <all this time, we’ve been protecting the study of _parasites_. >

<This is an invaluable discovery!> the smaller one with the smaller tail blade insisted. <Never before have we seen two species so close to sentience engaging in body-sharing. It brings new revelations to the nature of neural processes, identities, chemistry… I cannot begin to list the fields this could bring change to.>

<Parasites,> the angry one repeated, though less loudly. It had finally noticed all the Gedd-Yeerks that were watching.

<I wonder… Actually…> the small one continued, before leaping and making an excited gesture. <-Semitur-Corrass! The pleadings they made about fugue! They must have been alluding to death periods…> It started to wander back inside, but the angry one grabbed it.

<We have not finished this!> said the angry Moon.

<I must return to work! If I am right that they fear death, then it is possible that their sentience is not as ‘semi-’ as we thought!> And then the small Moon ran inside again.

The angry Moon turn to another Moon which preferred to stand stoically by the doorway of the metallic bubble to make sure that no Gedd-Yeerk accidentally wandered in. <Call in her superior,> the angry one ordered. An eye turned toward us. <And extend the border. We’ve let these things too close in their play at innocence.>

> <The story you are telling is beginning to near forbidden topics.>

You are free to obey any Andalite law you like. I am not an Andalite, and I will tell them what I like.

> “Wow, that really sounds like we’re in for a load of truth.”

Believe what you like.

> “Phyzzon, what happened when they called in the supervisor.”
> 
> <That’s-->

The supervisor was an Andalite called Seerow. He quickly replaced the small one. He was also the first to identify himself to us by name, which had confused us. We had no Moon named Seerow. He investigated many Yeerks and Gedd-Yeerks, but his favorites were those that could communicate most clearly, including myself, while the small one had considered this same group only an abnormal curiosity.

One day, he had me inside the bubble, sitting still on a small platform surrounded by many noisy glows. Seerow kept an eye on me while he manipulated a flat glow, and he asked me questions. He said, <How many Yeerks are in a pool?>

And I said, “It depends on how recently a predator has visited. It can vary between the amount of one fission and the amount of many fissions.”

He said, <Explain your use of the term ‘fission.’>

And I explained, as best I could, that to reproduce, three Yeerks come together in a fusion. There is much joy for the Yeerks involved, and the joy goes out into the rest of the pool, what I now understand to be the effects of hormones. Once their genetic material has completely fused, cells divide into a great number of new grubs. This is a fission. We counted populations in number of estimated fissions, despite the fact that only a small portion of grubs from each fission survived into their first cycle.

He laughed much at this. He laughed, and, with amusement, he said, <That is disgusting!>

And I felt a sickening in the Gedd’s body to know that our Moons hated us.

The questioning continued for some time. Sometimes they did not like our answers and would ask us again and again if that was what we really meant or tell us that we were communicating poorly. Sometimes they ignored our answers entirely. Sometimes they told us the answers they wanted and awaited our repetition of these phrases. We quickly found this practice exhausting, and one day Arkoff asked what the point of the game was.

<What do you mean ‘game’?> Seerow asked. His voice had annoyance because he had been focusing on something else on his many flat-glows and round-glows.

“The game of repeating,” explained Arkoff.

<No one has been playing games with you,> Seerow snapped brusquely. <We are not here for fun.>

“Then I do not understand,” said Arkoff. “Why do you have us guess words and repeat words.”

<Will someone do something about this?> Seerow asked the other Moons. <I’m trying to organize this data.>

The angry one grabbed Arkoff by the shoulder and took him out of sight. Many days later, Yaath found the Gedd that Arkoff had been within, but the Yeerk within had no idea where Arkoff had gone to.

On another day, I said to Seerow, “Would you like us to find other Gedd-Yeerks for you to communicate with?”

He was surprised. <We can find you just fine,> he told me. <Why would we want others?>

“This is the longest that any of us been in fugue,” I explained.

<No, no,> he said, <you are being fed every day. You will not undergo fugue.>

I understood that the Moons termed fugue differently than we did. In the pool, we are nourished constantly. For us, fugue began any time we left the pool, slowly increasing to the point of death. But the Moons thought only of the most extreme points of death, so I spoke differently, and I said, “But we rarely spend so much time in Gedd. We spend the majority of our lives within the pool.”

<Really?> Seerow was surprised. <But do the Gedd not wander off if you spend much time in the pool?>

I made a gesture to indicate confusion in the manner that these Moons communicated it. “Yes,” I said. I did not see why that was worth noting.

<Then how do you know who owns which Gedd?> he asked.

That is what he said. _How do you know who owns which Gedd?_ I remember it because it was revolutionary. We had not known that we could own Gedd. We did not know that we could own things as individuals. We did not know that we could keep hosts to ourselves.

I went and talked to my fellows. I told them what Seerow had said, and they also did not know how to tell who owned which Gedd, but suddenly it was a subject of concern. If we allowed our Gedd to wander than someone else could take it! We might not get another one! We needed to formalize our ownership and protect our Gedd from thieves, but how?

Within days, there had been more fights between Gedd-Yeerks and between Yeerks. Yeerks in the pools had harder times obtaining Gedds. The Gedds seemed to lessen in number, though I am not sure that is what happened.

Sometimes the Moons forced the fights to end and separated participants. Sometimes they ignored us. When the Moons who asked questions were not around, the aggressive Moons would encourage our fights and suggest weapons.

And then one day, Seerow said to us, <I have a solution for your predicament! I shall build you pools!>


	3. The Yeerk Chronicles, part 2

“What do you mean he said he’d give you pools?” Jake snapped. “You had pools.”

“He wanted to add brackets that would keep the Gedd in place,” Phyzzon explained. “But that was not practical with natural pools. So he considered artificial pools. Upon this, he realized that if he could create portable pools and Kandrona generators, this would allow us to be moved outside the planet for further study and additional hosts beyond what our planet provided.”

“ _What_?” Rachel demanded. “No way.” Jake got up and walked around behind the couch to get some space. Ax was watching him carefully, his tailblade hovering low around his back ankles.

Almost everyone else seemed to have eyes on Ax, including Marco, whose expression was nearing vicious. “Okay, just to make sure no one’s hearing wrong and the Yeerk isn’t tilting things,” he said slowly, “are we saying that the very reason that the Andalites fight Yeerks, the reason that they’re running wild around the galaxy and ruining everyone’s lives, is because the Andalites _showed them how_?”

With a vicious sneer, Phyzzon started to speak again, but then their mouth snapped shut. Their face went blank momentarily, and then Phyzzon looked away and blushed. “Sorry,” he muttered. He gestured to Ax. “I have said what I have said because it is _my_ history, but I will not speak for you, whatever my feelings about Andalites might be.”

At that, Batman leaned forward. “Phyzzon, does Starfire keep you in line?” he asked.

Phyzzon stiffened. “We are symbiotic,” he said. “We each have our own wills, and the amount of use I make of her body is decided by her. But…” he glanced aside. “The universe in Starfire’s eyes is a very different place. This vision must be protected at all costs.”

Robin smiled at that.

But Jake was looking at Ax. “Ax?” he asked. His voice was quiet but the tone was stressed, distrustful. Ax had held back something major, and the Animorphs now wanted an explanation.

None of Aximili’s four eyes were on Jake. He shifted his weight a couple times and pawed at the carpet slightly before he finally spoke. <There is a law among my people,> he said at last. <It has become the highest law. Breaking it is unforgivable. The law is called ‘Seerow’s Kindness.’ It is meant to remind us what will happen if we share information or technology with primitive worlds or societies.>

Marco’s eyes narrowed. “But you keep calling us primitive,” he said.

<Yes.>

<But you keep giving us information when we need it,> said Tobias.

“And your brother gave us morphing technology,” said Cassie.

<I am aware,> Aximili said stiffly. He raised his tail into a more formal position along his back. <And one day, I will be held accountable for my actions by my people, and my brother’s name may be stripped of his accomplishments.>

“Whoa,” mumbled Beast Boy.

The Animorphs said nothing as they digested this information, but Phyzzon was watching Ax with great interest. Finally, he nodded as though coming to a decision, took a deep breath, and said, “Thank you.”

Ax hopped slightly, surprised by the words, and raised his tail further into a defensive position. < _You_ thank me? > he demanded. <For what?>

“As little as you require my assurance or approval, I feel obligated to voice it in the absence of anyone else saying so,” said Phyzzon. “This planet has seven billion class five hosts and a plethora of resources. Far more than the budding empire of my kin could possibly require. This is where the war will be won or lost, and your sacrifices serve a purpose.” He glanced over the gathered group. “And they are worth it.”

<I know that,> Ax snipped defensively.

Phyzzon smiled at that. Not a competitive or mocking smile, but a genuine one.

“What do you mean by ‘class five’?” asked Batman, and Phyzzon returned his focus to him.

Phyzzon explained, “It means that there are many of you, your forms are useful, and you are easy to control. Tamaraneans are class three. The Gordanians have killed most of them, the majority of them are willful warriors, and they do not breed quickly. Gedd and Taxxons are class two as Taxxons are extremely difficult to control, and Gedd are not very useful in comparison to other species.”

“Maybe you should continue with the story,” Cassie suggested. “For more context. I mean, I assume there was more.”

“There is plenty,” said Phyzzon. He leaned back against the TV stand and closed his eyes for a moment.

－ －

`Generation 684, late-cycle`

Metallic bubbles had been transporting Yeerks and Gedd-Yeerks to the sky often. When they came back, there were only Gedd. Seerow was brusque and irritable during that time. When he finally became happy again, he invited me and his other favorites. I noticed that the other Gedd-Yeerks were starting to give the Moons more distance. Whispers had begun that all of our known Moons had been seen again by that point. That none of these Moons had the same names as the ones in our skies. And they were beginning to disbelieve that the disappearances were blessings.

But, as someone who was favored, who had been told that I was less simple than my fellows, I ignored these things, and I went onto the bubble which, surprisingly took us not into the sky, but past it. Into an unimagined void where I could see the heavenly bodies so much clearer.

“Seerow, may I ask you a question?” I said, looking out a window as many of the other Gedd-Yeerks onboard were.

<I am busy,> he said. <What is it?>

“What is that?” I said pointing to an unimaginably large silver-white rock.

Seerow glanced one eye toward me, then followed my indication to the rock. <That is the moon you named Madra,> he said.

“No, it is not,” I said, thinking that this was another miscommunication.

<Excuse me?> he snapped, that one eye returning an sharp focus to me.

“Madra is a god,” I explained.

Seerow snorted. <Your gods are rocks,> he said. <You’re space-farers now. Stop acting like children.> He walked off to another part of the bubble, to speak to the angry one that was called Alloran.

My companions slowly joined my side. “It cannot be true,” said Yaath, and Eslay said, “Why would a Moon mislead us?” But Cargam said, “But if he says this, then can he be a Moon?” “He must be a Moon! Look at all these glows!” cried Garrin.

There was much discussion like this until, at last, it was Temrane who came to the conclusion, “I think that they must be gods, for they have the power of gods, but they are not Moons. They must be someone else’s gods.”

“What do we do with someone else’s gods?” asked Garrin.

I looked out at the diminishing form of Madra and her neighbor who must have been Fenda. “Fear them,” I said.

－ －

`Generation 685, early-cycle`

It took some time to move to the nearest Dome ship. Even longer for that Dome ship to transport us to the Andalite prison planet.

> “Prison planet?”
> 
> <Dangerous felons are not housed on our planet, but another, vacated planet far from ours. Only vecols work there, and only scientific staff and the warriors protecting them ever visit.>
> 
> “Wait, what?”
> 
> “Aximili, do I need to ask why _scientists_ visit your _prison_?”
> 
> <To look after the prisoners, of course. Unlike you, we do not have a separation of science and medicine.>

Alloran was against allowing us to leave the transport ship and enter the Dome ship, claiming he had superior orders, but Prince Seerow usurped him. In those days, we learned many more things than we ever had before. Seerow showed us basic mathematics and attempted to explain military organization to us, but… we didn’t really understand.

> <Hence the directly lateral organization of the Yeerk Empire.>

Yes.

Personally, I took more interest in the daily martial rituals. Mostly because it annoyed Alloran. Many of us had begun to look where were being told not to, to try to understand the things not being said to us. In retaliation, Alloran encouraged me to attempt to mimic the Andalites, and then mocked my failures. In doing this, however, he told me the reasoning behind the moves. From this, I was able to improve, though I made sure not to show it. We also learned that these foreign gods were called Andalites.

Seerow also began to instruct us on the concepts of technology so that we would be better able to manipulate the pool technologies and kandrona generators. The early-generation generators were very volatile, so they had to be operated and constantly monitored by the scientists, but they had other things to do, so they wanted to teach us. They ran into a small problem when no Yeerk, no matter how long in fugue, would not touch a glowing object. So they had to teach us why objects glow.

> “Wait… is that why the Yeerks were disappearing? Because the generators kept failing?”

Anyway--

> <You do not wish to take the opportunity to further badmouth the Andalite military?>

No, Aximili, I do not want to take the opportunity to discuss the possibility that hundreds of my people were murdered in poorly executed experiments that we did not consent to.

> <That’s not-->

I really do not care.

Anyway, they taught us these things, and we quite enjoyed mathematics and ranking, though it often caused arguments. When three Yeerks in their late-cycle reproduced, instead of naming the grubs all Jillim, we assigned numbers to the grubs based on the fission pattern.

> “Wait, if that’s when the numbers were added to your names, then how are you Phyzzon 355?”

My first Gedd was assigned the identity “Experiment Three Hundred Fifty-Five.” When it became normal for Yeerks to have names with numbers, I took on the number three-five-five.

The fusion and fission itself was a major attraction, and a great many of the Andalites watched and commented, though Alloran left part way through the fission process, prompting an exchange of currency among his subordinates. Again, the process was repeatedly referred to as disgusting and horrific. The scientists thought it was fascinating. The warriors thought it was funny.

Every time one of them touched a grub, I grew more ill.

“Stop that,” I said at last.

One of Seerow’s assistants, Dellaia-Something-Whatever, turned to me with interest. <What are the effects of touching them?> she asked.

There was no harm in touching them. In fact, we enjoy touch. I had no answer for her, and I did not know why I was upset. “Uh…”

<What’s wrong with it?> said another.

<Perhaps they get unreasonable around children,> suggested another. <Many animals become extremely overprotective after birth of young. With the absence of the biological parents, the other slugs must feel compelled to take over the role.>

Seerow touched me on the shoulder, and I moved quickly away, wary, my back to the pool. <Alright, then, we’ll let it alone for now.> He said it with a smile. To me, it sounded like a threat.

No, you’re right, it may not have been. But things were becoming tense. I was confused. Perhaps there are things both of us could have done better. But this is how it was.


	4. The Yeerk Chronicles, part 3

`Generation 685, early-cycle`

> “Hey, can I ask something? If marking time in generations is new, how come you were on six hundred eighty-five already?”
> 
> “It is based on an Andalite estimation for the span of modern Yeerks.”
> 
> “Then how are they on twelve thousand already?”

They… what?

> “According to the memory dump I got when Temrash was lost in my head, this is Yeerk generation twelve thousand… seventy-two?”

I suppose it has to do with politics. Yeerks do not cycle fast enough to reproduce that often. You cannot reproduce in early-cycle, and reproduction in mid-cycle does not often go well.

Anyway…

`Generation 685, early-cycle`

“How many hosts?” I asked as the transport ship docked with the prison’s one and only port.

<For now?> Seerow said. <I would like to study how you bond with Circadians, a sentient host. However, there is only one in our custody. We will continue to evaluate further hosts.>

“Which Yeerk?” I asked.

Seerow appeared amused. <Does it matter?> he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Some of these people you have chosen are Controllers.”

I now had full command of Seerow’s attention. <Controllers?> he repeated.

“It crops up occasionally. People who utilize their host as an extension of themselves and ignore the needs and desires of the host, usually to the point of exhaustion.” I explained. I sighed. “Admittedly, there has been an increase lately.” I found that Seerow was still watching me carefully. “What?” I asked.

<I didn’t realize you had a sense of morality,> he told me. <Or at least cultural taboos. You did not seem developed enough. Again, I have underestimated you, my friend. It is fascinating. We must make further study of it on the way back.>

His words confused me, so I simply agreed. “As you wish,” I said. Then, “Seerow?”

<Yes?>

“What is sentience?”

<Perception and emotion,> he answered simply.

“I do not understand.”

<It’s a complicated matter,> he admitted. <Perhaps we can discuss it further into your education.>

－ －

We Yeerks never actually left the transport ship while it was docked with the prison planet. The Circadian was brought on board by Andalite guards. Their appearances surprised me. One was missing a stalk eye. The other limped and did not appear to have full use of his tail. I would later be grateful for this fortune.

Despite the fact that they were handling a prisoner, the only other Andalite in the room was Seerow, who hardly seemed to notice them. <Lock it into the brackets,> Seerow ordered, and the two Andalites hauled an insectile creature over to the portable pool. <Experiment four hundred sixty-two, lend your strength and push it under,> said Seerow, and Temrane loped forward and pushed the Circadian’s head into the pool.

Or, rather, he tried to.

<Experiment four hundred sixty-two!> Seerow chided. <I told you to push it under. Your friends cannot gain hosts if you do not help.>

“But…” Temrane looked around helplessly at those gathered. “But it struggles.”

<Of course. It does not understand what we are doing, as a Gedd might,> Seerow explained. <You will encounter this with foreign species. You have the strength to force it.>

Temrane gestured his acquiescence, then pushed the Circadian again. It attempted to thrash. I remember the gurgle of its scream under water. But Temrane did not let go until a Yeerk was within the Circadian.

However, the Circadian-Yeerk did not stop struggling. Together, they screamed. Much of it did not make sense or was in language I did not understand. But there was screaming about screaming. That the mind was not quiet. That someone else was there. The Yeerk did not understand what was happening and was frightened.

The guards came forward and began to pull the Circadian-Yeerk out of the brackets. “No!” I objected. “Put it back in! Let them go free!”

<I know that this is not a desirable result,> said Seerow, <but we cannot improve it without further study.>

I tried to pull the Circadian-Yeerk away from them, but the guards forced me back with their tailblades. “They are suffering!” I cried.

<Do you not want to better your people?> asked Seerow.

“Yes, but--"

<Do you not reproduce in such masses expecting the unfortunate to happen?> asked Seerow.

“Yes, but--"

<But _what_? >

I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t understand the concepts behind my objection. All I knew was that I hated this evil god, and I would do anything to stand in his way.

So I hit him.

The guard with the limp sliced my Gedd’s throat, attempting a decapitation, and I reeled back from them. There was a commotion as other Andalites were called in to see to Seerow. I watched him fall back, unprepared for a trained Gedd’s blow to the head.

Unprepared.

Weak.

With blood slipping between my fingers as I desperately tried to clutch my throat closed, I stumbled the few steps to the pool and collapsed over the side. Someone grabbed my Gedd’s shoulder, but they were unable to stop me from slipping free.

It was cowardly. It was a betrayal of my Gedd, as I have betrayed every host. I should have rode out the fugue together with it and joined our memories before dissipating. But I knew that I had to reach my fellow Yeerks. I had to tell them what I had discovered.

Andalites were not gods.

Andalites were fallible.

Andalites could be hit.

－ －

I didn’t get another chance at a host until mid-cycle. All the while I waited, wondering. Would they finally learn to tell me apart from my fellows? Would they simply dispose of us all in retribution?

But, as Yeerks with hosts returned to the pool with confirmation of my story, others left with lies. That I had lost too many synapses trying to flee a dying Gedd. That, hearing of my betrayal, they had cannibalized me.

> “Wait, what? You can eat?”

We feed in pools.

> “I thought you just absorbed stuff!”

Yes.

> “You say ‘cannibalize’ like it wouldn’t be abnormal.”
> 
> "I guess that explains Visser Three."

Nothing explains Visser Three.

Cannibalization is a great crime that occurs only in overcrowded pools with abnormally low resources. But it was an excuse for my death that the Andalites would not think twice about.

By the time I was able to obtain my new host, many things had changed. The Andalites had formed more permanent outposts across the surface of our planet, and there were many ships around. Many of our pools had been drained and replaced with artificial ones. Seerow’s family had moved into a permanent residence in one of their protected domes.

But we had changed, too. We had become liars, spies, and thieves. Cowards, tricksters, and adversaries. In secret, we taught ourselves to fight, we fashioned weapons, and we organized ourselves. Anything for survival. Anything for usurpation. And we spread the word.

Andalites are not gods.

Andalites are fallible.

Andalites can be hit.

On the nearing of maturity, we made our way to a ship we knew to have many Yeerks. On other parts of the planet, others were doing the same. We’d broken ourselves into small groups so as to pass more easily among the Andalites. It was risky; we would be easier to kill, but it played to our greatest asset: Andalites just kept underestimating us.

We killed the guards. It was fast and it was vicious and it was necessary.

It did not feel good, but it felt like victory.

－ －

`Generation 686, mid-cycle`

The Taxxon homeworld was our greatest asset. That, I was sure as soon as I heard rumor of them. They were overeager for control and for a consistent food supply. The latter we could supply easily; there is a lot of meat in war. The former was… problematic.

> “When you say 'meat'…”
> 
> <They fed enemies to the Taxxons.>

We fed bodies to the Taxxons. The people were always past fugue.

> “You said that you had a Taxxon host.”

Yes, I transferred my hosts when I struck the Taxxon treaty. I said that it was to demonstrate seriousness and to have the experience needed to help other new Taxxon-Yeerks. The truth was that I wanted to be punished. For abandoning the Gedd in its fugue. For aiding Seerow. For helping throw my people into this war unprepared, simply because we… because _I_ was angry.

The life of a Taxxon is short and gruesome. It guaranteed me suffering and death, and I had thought I wanted those things.

But with the planet so easily controlled, I was sent to help reinforce the eradication of Hork-Bajir rebels on their homeworld. My host did not take well to the environment, and I had relegated myself to dying there.

Until I heard _that_ name.

So much time since then, and he still filled me with such rage, such sickness, such betrayal.

I took his namesake for my own. I ignored the screaming. I took Control. I would crush this Seerow in the way I’d never gotten a chance with the first. Unsatisfied, I moved on to her. Seerow’s Unkindness. The mistake she made was predictable. We both had Hork-Bajir forms, and yet she still fought like an Andalite.

I didn’t.

－ －

`Generation 702, late cycle`

I… I cannot say what was in my mind when I went to attack the Gordanians. Perhaps my never ending battle for control of Seerow Hamee had made me… unreasonable. Perhaps I had returned to the morbidity that I had felt before and after the Taxxon homeworld and many times since. Perhaps Yeerks simply are not designed to undergo so many cycles.

The Gordanians had pursued the Tamaraneans into Andalite space. We wanted them to help us get close enough to the Andalite. Negotiations had taken a turn after I insulted the negotiating warrior’s choice in mate. My crew were slain, and I was captured for information and labor.

I do not know how long I was with them, but when they felt that they had enough use of me, I was slit across the belly and tossed into a holding cell to die. They told her that was her meal for the week.

She cried for us. She pulled Seerow’s head into her lap. It took me a while to understand her expressions of grief as Yeerks, Gedd, Andalites, and Taxxons did not cry. But Hork-Bajir did, and _he_ understood. So, after years of abusing him in the name of a man he’d never known, I relinquished control. He talked to her for a long time, as it takes Hork-Bajir quite a while to die of injury. She was kind and compassionate, and she kept him company.

He lost consciousness as he neared the end of his fugue. She became afraid for him, so I regained control to try to reassure her. It was then that she discovered that she had been holding a Yeerk’s host. I expected disgust or hostility and, at that point, I suppose it was earned. But she tilted her head and asked where I would go when Seerow Hamee died. I told her that I would go nowhere. When he died, I would die. Our memories would blend, and we’d carry each other to whatever came next.

She asked if there was a way to save me. I said that I did not want to leave my host. I’d left too many already. It was my obligation to go with him.

And then she cried again, and she admitted that she did not want to be alone. I had nothing to offer, I told her. Even with a new host, the Gordanians would not continue to supply me with Kandrona. I had been in fugue for several hours already.

But she lowered herself to Seerow’s ear all the same. Her mind was astounding, but her memories rose old hostilities again. With those feelings, I discovered her abilities.

Yet again, the enemy had made a simple mistake that would be its undoing. It had underestimated her.

Though she feared repercussions, she was as eager to save me from my fate as I was to save her from unjust punishment. I blew our way out of the facility. I killed guards. I flew us to escape. I knew if I could make it to a Mother ship, the Gordanians would be forced to retreat. The nearest one that was likely to still be in the same place was the one over the Hork-Bajir homeworld.

But when I neared it, I saw with new eyes what I had left behind. I remembered all that I had done. Petty revenge. Control. Mass slaughter. Mass destruction. All for what? Because I was angry at Andalites? Because they had been cruel, then I would be cruel?

I had become a monster. The empire I served was a monstrosity no better than the Andalite military. And I thought… I thought that if Koriand’r knew, then she would turn against me. I had only just met her, but the idea of losing her was terrible to me.

So I fled past it all. I kept the past a secret. I fled to Earth, thinking it was safe, knowing that the Na traded there. We were able to trade some of Starfire’s hair for a Kandrona generator and pool. It seems the reason we were able to get such a good deal was because the Na knew it would keep us on Earth long enough to sell our location to the Gordanians.

Which was how we met Robin, Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy.


	5. Alien Notions

“You mean… Starfire didn’t know about any of this?” asked Beast Boy.

“I did not,” Starfire confirmed brusquely. “I was given some warning, but I had given Phyzzon room to decide when Robin prompted this discussion.”

Robin frowned. “Then… are you…”

“That is for us to decide alone,” Starfire snipped again. She looked over her audience of Animorphs, Titans, and Batman. “Is everyone satisfied?” she said.

<I do not believe-->

Starfire’s eyes glowed bright green. “Is. Everyone. Satisfied.”

<Yes,> said Ax, and the others nodded as well.

They all watched her leave. Eventually, they heard her door slam. Many of them winced. “I didn’t know you could slam an electronic door,” Jake said, still looking off in the direction she had gone. He looked like he was making notes. It wasn’t a good sign.

“Tamaraneans are really strong!” Beast Boy bragged. “One time I lost a quarter under the weight machine, so she picked it up. The whole machine!”

“So… she broke the door?” Rachel translated.

Beast Boy’s ears tilted down. “Oh. Um. Probably.” He looked off in the direction of her room worriedly. “Do you think she’s going to… you know… stop?”

“Probably,” said Robin. “At least for a while. It was a lot to dump all at once, and in front of people. She’s going to be mad.”

Rachel was staring at him open-mouthed. “Surely, you don’t--?”

“You want to go throwing around adjectives, Rachel?” Robin snapped. “Really?” He turned to his friends. “Cyborg, why don’t you see about getting those nanoprobes out, so the Animorphs can get home at a reasonable hour?”

“I don’t because Slade spliced them with alien tech,” Cyborg drawled, “and I was right about to ask _Phyzzon_ for advice.”

Well, that made Robin feel even worse.

<There is a small possibility that I might recognize something,> Aximili offered.

“Better than nothing!” Cyborg said, getting up. “Alright, Animorphs follow me. Jake, that includes you.”

“I know which team I’m on,” Jake snapped, getting up to follow him out.

Batman watched the young teenagers clamber over the back of the couch or walk around it and follow Cyborg out to the elevator. He turned to the remainder of the Titans, who were all looking sullen with Robin having an extra helping of guilty. “We're all aware that we just heard the willing confession of a war criminal, however provoked he was?” Batman asked, irritated.

“With all due respect, _sir_ ,” Robin snapped, standing up. “You haven’t been here, you haven’t fought this war, and you’re not in a position to judge.” He headed off toward his own room. “Thanks for bugging the place, though. We could use the extra security.”

Raven disappeared in a puff of smoke, and Beast Boy leapt away quickly in a lemur form.

Batman stared out at the sunny view of Jump Bay and thought about everything he’d learned over the past several hours.

－ －

Robin looked up from his research when he heard a knock at the door. Grumbling, he went to answer it. “Look, I know you--" Robin swallowed his words immediately upon sighting his visitor. “Oh, Starfire. Hi.”

Starfire was looking at the floor. “I am sorry. I did not intend to--"

“No, it’s okay!” he assured her quickly, opening the door further. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I assumed the knock was Batman.”

She looked at him quizzically. “You do not get along?”

Robin scratched his neck uneasily. “Uh… It’s complicated,” he told her.

She nodded and returned her gaze to the floor. “I see,” she said quietly, gripping her arm.

“Star, did you want something?” he asked, gently, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“Phyzzon is back in the pool with Temrash,” she said. “In… Ind…” She only barely managed to squeak out the word “indefinitely” past the sob stuck in her throat. She took a deep breath, then said, “I am not accustomed to being without company.”

Robin smiled and stepped aside of the doorway. “You can hangout here if you want,” he told her.

She took a tentative step inside but kept her eyes glue to the floor and her arms gripped in front of her. “Robin, may I ask you a question?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“Which one of us were you trying to kiss last night?”

Robin swallowed nervously. “Both. Either. I…” He really didn’t know what to say about having an extant crush on both her and the soldier in her head that she’d just broken up with.

“Do you still wish to kiss me?” Starfire asked quietly.

Something boiled in Robin’s stomach, and he felt wretchedly guilty for tearing open such a terrible and personal wound. “If it’s alright with you,” he said, “I’d much rather kiss you when you’re not crying.”

Starfire nodded quickly. She looked up at him again, her normally bright eyes raw and wet. “Then… can I have a hug?” she asked in a voice that sounded small and pathetic.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, smiling for her. He reached out and took her hands gently and pulled her against him. She buried her face in his shoulder and began to sob in earnest.

－ －

“Raven,” said Batman, opening his door at her knock. “Did you need something?”

Raven looked up at him studiously but, as far as he could tell, she wasn’t using psychic powers this time. “Sir, I was wondering how much Robin told you about the Animorphs?”

“Andalite gave them technology to become animals for two hours. More than two hours is permanent, like the hawk. Demorphing required between morphs. Guerilla fighters. Primary force against local Yeerks as they have no other heroism endeavors,” Batman summarized quickly.

Raven nodded stiffly. “I took Beast Boy back to Slade’s lair to gather any evidence that survived.” She held out a computer disk. “I thought you might want to see this.”

Batman took it. “Going to tell me what’s on it?”

“Five scared kids having their guts ripped out and their limbs chopped off,” she answered. “Repeatedly.”

Batman stared back at her.

“The Animorphs,” she clarified.

“I would hope.”

“We’re not happy about the death count, either, sir,” she said. “But Robin’s right. You don’t know. So there is what you want to know. This is who we are fighting. An army of invaders willing to escalate to murder the very moment the fight starts and who will use unwilling slaves to do it. That is where Phyzzon and Temrash come from. Are we surprised that they’re not… clean?”

“You believe their recent actions outweigh past ones?” Batman asked.

Raven shrugged. “I think… evil is evil. We’ll all be accountable for that side of ourselves, in the end. But it must mean something to try anyway. If it doesn’t… I don’t know what we’re doing.”

－ －

Back in his scoop near Cassie’s property and out of Tobias’s sight, Aximili turned over the small Tamaranean long distance communicator in his hand. It was purple and silver, designed to match Starfire’s favorite outfit. It was a bit scratched up from where Aximili had forced the cover open to remove the Z-space transponder. He and Marco had gone back to the quarry later to retrieve it just in case it was ever needed in the future. (And to make sure no one could connect the ‘Andalite bandits’ to Starfire.)

Aximili would not be able to send anything coded with the device, but he could call home. He had known that when she’d dropped it in Marco’s bag at the mall. Despite Marco’s claims, Aximili suspected that she may not have been trying to complete their beacon but instead simply trying to help him get home… and as far away from her and Phyzzon as possible.

He’d been putting it off. They would not send anyone to a planet that had appealed to them on an uncoded transmission, and it would show weakness to call home simply to hear his family. But there were things that they needed to know.

Now, he knew as he turned the device over again, there were things he also needed to know.

Aximili sighed in defeat and set the coordinates for transmission.

“Who is this?” a voice demanded over the small speakers. “All transmissions to the Andalite homeworld are intercepted.”

<I know,> Aximili replied, <but this is the only communication device I have access to. My name is Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.>

“An Andalite? Prince Elfangor’s brother? Why are you using a Tamaranean long distance communicator?”

<There is a Tamaranean on this planet. On earth. She-- I took it from her,> Ax lied.

“Earth!” the voice cried with surprise.

<Yes.>

“Is Prince Elfangor with you?”

Aximili kicked at the sod floor of his scoop. <Who are you?> he asked.

“I am Ithileran-Halas-Corain,” the voice identified itself. “Assistant to the Head of Planetary Communications.”

<Thank you,> said Aximili. He took a moment to collect himself, then said, <Ithileran, my brother… ended his life when he became compromised on this planet, as we are oathed to.>

“Your brother was a great warrior,” said Ithileran, “and I mourn also for the many other warriors aboard the Dome ship.”

<Elfangor was the greatest,> Aximili agreed. <My family doesn't know he's dead. I would like you to connect me with them. I could get interrupted any minute.>

“I will do that. As soon as your family is found, I will connect you. But first, give me your report, aristh Aximili.” There was a tone of force to the voice.

Aximili scrambled to gather his thoughts. Of course, he had to report in! Did he think the military would be more interested in his feelings? <The Yeerks are here in force,> he said. <There is at least one Mother ship, equipped with Leerans and a local aquatic species of humanoid. Also one Blade ship belonging to Visser Three, and numerous Bug fighters. Powered humanoids are common, and there are three Kryptonian-Controllers present. The human populace is unaware of the present invasion. I do not know how many humans have been made into Controllers, but there must be thousands, at least. The place called Jump City has been compromised, as well as the place called Atlantis and the defense outpost called The Watchtower. There is a large pool complex hidden beneath Jump City.>

“Then Earth is lost to the Yeerks?”

<No!> Ax said sharply. <Earth is not lost. There is a small resistance. There are four powered humanoids and a…> He did not wish to lie further, but the connection was not secure. <Another Kryptonian. Identities: Nightwing, Cyberion, Changeling, Pride, and Superstar. There are also a few…> They would put him to death when this lie was discovered. <A few survivors.>

“Names of the survivors?”

<I… don’t know.>

“You don’t know the names of your fellow survivors?”

Ax remained silent.

After a long moment, Ithileran pressed, “These powered humans. What are their abilities?”

<I do not feel comfortable divulging that on a non-secure line,> said Aximili.

“It’s fine, Aximili. We have plenty of security here. It is important that you give us as much information as possible.”

<You… You cannot secure this end,> Aximili said, growing suspicious.

“It is fine. Just tell us what their abilities are so that we will be better able to evaluate what aid to send.”

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Aximili tilted the device to read the coordinates better, but he had definitely reached the Andalite homeworld. <Sir, can I ask a question first?>

Another pause. Then, “Ask.”

<Who is Phyzzon 355?>

“The General? His squadron was destroyed by the Gordanians during an attempt at negotiation some years ago. Why?”

Ax cut off the connection.

His head was swimming. Andalites did not know about Phyzzon, and certainly didn’t track the movements of individual Yeerks, and if they did, that knowledge would be too important to mention casually over an unsecured connection. An unsecured connection that Ithileran had tried to convince him to ignore.

The communicator trilled in his hand, and he looked down at it. There was a message of hatch marks across the screen. He thought he recognized the language as Tamaranean, but he had never seen enough samples in order for his chip to translate it. As it was, all he could tell was that the message seemed to be an odd mixture of threats and declarations of adoration.

Against his better judgement, he opened the written message application and switched the keyboard setting to Andalite. _I am sorry,_ he replied. _I do not yet understand Tamaranean._

The messager quickly responded with, _That’s cute, Phyzzie. Put my sister on so I can yell at her about how she uses that phone._

_I am neither Phyzzon 355 nor Starfire of Tamaran. I am an Andalite whom she lent the phone to._

_Oh that must have driven him NUTS. Well, sorry sweetie, but the Queen of Tamaran says Kori’s phone contract does not cover calls outside Tamaranean Space, and I’m not allotting more of **our** inheritance to do so. Clear?_

That was… interesting. _Starfire is sister to the queen of Tamaran?_ Aximili asked.

_She is now ;D_ replied the queen. _NOW TURN THAT PHONE OFF AND GIVE IT BACK_

Ax turned the communicator off. It seemed, perhaps, that everyone was hiding something.


End file.
